


To Love and to Hate

by hazellepotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Caring, Cussing, F/M, Humor, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, Muggle London, Muggle Pub, Ollivanders, POV Harry Potter, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Teasing, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Vomit Mention, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22688419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazellepotter/pseuds/hazellepotter
Summary: What even was romance? Harry was not sure, but to him, it was dead, or he at least wanted it to be.
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter, mentioned Ginny Weasley/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	To Love and to Hate

**Two Years Earlier**

Harry saw her again for the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts two years later and on Valentine's Day of all days. 

He was in a muggle pub, drinking away his sadness. Ginny had left him, though he knew it was going to happen. They had grown into different people. Their love became familial once again. _What even was romance?_ Harry was not sure, but to him, it was dead, or he at least wanted it to be.

The stout he was drinking was thick, and he could feel it slide slowly down his throat as he groaned from his own inner emotional turmoil. He regretted his choice in beverage, but it was too late now. He was surrounded by muggles and no wizarding drinks were in sight. He would have to live with his choices.

Harry didn't realize he was still groaning aloud until he heard her voice. He would have recognized it anywhere. It had the same high-pitched tone it did when she screamed his name in the Great Hall. He could feel the smirk spread across her lips before he even turned to face her.

"Potter, could you pipe down over there?"

 **It was Pansy Parkinson.** One of the last people he would ever want to see at this moment in time, or ever, really. Her once dark and short hair was now past her shoulders and bleach blonde. You could see her dark roots threatening to come back in. Her makeup was dark compared to the pink it used to be, and she was also drinking a stout rather than wine like he figured she would be. He knew he should roll his eyes and groan just at her _presence_ to annoy her, but really, he was intrigued as to why Pansy Parkinson of all people was in a muggle pub on _Valentine's Day_ when she probably had rich daddy's boy's back in the wizarding world wishing they could be fawning at her feet at this very moment.

Harry could feel a burp coming on, but he stifled it. Even if Pansy Parkinson didn't think so, he still had class. He always had class, even if he didn't want it. He was regretting his fifth stout very much.

"What in the actual fuck are _you_ doing here, Parkinson?"

He watched as Pansy raised her brow and his vision blurred. She could see he was clearly heavily intoxicated. He watched as her face started to express concern, even though she tried to stifle it down like his earlier burp.

"Potter, can you get a grip? Drink some water."

She waved the bartender over to bring him some water. She moved to sit right next to him. Harry did not have the energy to even recoil. He had no idea why she wanted to be close to him or why she cared that he was heavily intoxicated in a public place, but he did not have the capacity to question it any longer.

He took a sip of the water in front of him and set it down loudly on the bar-top.

"What are you doing in a muggle pub?" He pressed again, "I never would have expected to see you here in a million years. Especially since I heard you were interning at Ollivander's now. I heard he does most of his work at night?"

"Keeping tabs on me, aye Potter?"

He heard the joking tone in her voice as his stomach started to bubble with stout. He took another drink of water to try and calm it down. 

"Gossip is always going to be a part of my life," he replied, "Even if I don't want it to be."

_"You and me both."_

He looked at her in shock. First, because he could not believe she wouldn't enjoy the gossip, and second, because he realized he was about to throw up all over her.

And so he did.

He listened to her screech as his previous drinks seeped into her white blouse, but he watched as she quickly collected herself. In that moment, she kind of reminded him of Hermione. He would never dare tell Hermione that, though. It was probably just his drunk thoughts talking. 

"Can you get your date out of here?" The bartender grumbled. 

Harry watched through his blurry vision as the bartender started to clean up his puke. He was utterly mortified as he felt Pansy lift his arms over her shoulders. 

"Let's go, Potter," she told him.

Before he could protest, they were out in an alley, and she was apparating away from all the muggles. Then everything for Harry went black. 

* * *

**Two Years Earlier, The Next Day**

Harry woke up in a flat he was not familiar with. The walls were grey, and the house was furnished in what Ginny would call a "modern muggle" style. He blinked a few times, but quickly shut his eyes again when a light was turned on.

"Finally you're awake, Potter. I thought I was going to have to call your precious Weasel girlfriend to come and-"

"She's not my girlfriend anymore. She's basically my sister."

"So... you... just were fucking your _sister_ for all those years?"

"Shut the fuck up, Parkinson. You know I didn't mean it _like-_ "

"Just get up and get out of my house."

Ridiculously hungover, Harry rolled off of what he assumed was Pansy's bed and hunched over to collect himself. The room was now spinning.

"You better not barf again or I swear to-"

"I'm not going to barf, but I am going to ask, why take care of me? You hate me, and I hate you."

He watched her as she sarcastically smiled, "But it was Valentine's Day, isn't that supposed to be the day of _love and caring_?"

Harry snorted, "More like a day of _hell_. I don't understand the hype and ridiculous conventions-"

"Tell me about it."

Harry was surprised. He figured Pansy would love the attention and the flaunting. She did at Hogwarts.

 _"I don't understand-"_ He started.

"Look, don't pretend to know who I truly am anymore, and I won't assume I know you. Though, I assume you are pretty easy to figure out like you always have been."

Harry finally looked up and glared.

"Please just leave now before your paparazzi crew or something comes and realizes you were here. That's the last thing I need. I don't need to be followed to Ollivander's by more people to be spat at as I am just trying to do my fucking job."

Harry was about to say something, but he stopped himself. He wasn't even sure what he was going to say, just that he wanted to say something. But instead, he got up and slipped on his sneakers. He didn't even bother to tie them. As he walked towards her front door to prepare to apparate, he turned around to look at her again. Her eyes were almost as green as his, he realized, but they had some blue in them as well. They reminded him of Hogwarts lake, and his heart ached as he realized how much he missed his first home.

"What are you gaping at?" She finally asked.

He thought about saying something cruel and snide. That's what he would have done in the past; that's what she would have done in the past too, but he realized now that neither of them were no longer the same, and maybe that was okay. 

"The blonde suits you," he told her, and before she could reply, he stepped out of her flat and apparated home.

* * *

**One Year Earlier**

It was a year since they had reunited and a year since Harry had first slept over, even though it wasn't for the best reason, but now they laid on Pansy's bed panting for air.

"God damn, Potter. You continue to fuck me good."

Harry smirked as he rolled over and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Don't start with that holiday bullshit-" Pansy started, but she was interrupted by Harry rolling back on top of her and kissing her on the lips. She didn't try to fight it. 

As Harry pulled away, he looked down into her eyes, "I want you to be mine."

"Are you seriously telling me this on Valentine's Day? We have been having sex for a year and casually hanging out and now-"

_"I love you, Pansy."_

He figured she would fight back; she had a thing against that statement. She had since the very beginning, and he did too at first, until he started to let himself feel again. He loved her, and she made this new Harry after _everything_ feel alive. That meant _everything_ to him. He was nervous as she didn't respond; he would rather have her fight it than not respond at all.

He started to pull away from her to sit up, but she pulled him back down and kissed him softly.

"I love you, too," she whispered, "But don't pull that shit again. You know how much I hate this god damn day."

A smile spread across his lips as he kissed her again, "Next time on Valentine's Day, I'll have to propose, just to annoy you. I know how much you'd love that. That is the definition of corny Valentine shit."

She rolled her eyes, "You better not, but if you do, I need an emerald ring. That's the only way I'll accept. None of that corny bullshit. If you ever buy me a rose, I swear to god-"

"Okay," he responded teasingly, "Emerald it is, just like your eyes. But maybe I should add some sapphires in there too?"

"Why?"

_"Because your eyes aren't only one color, Pansy."_

He stated it like it was obvious, and this made her roll her eyes and playfully hit his shoulder, _"Harry-"_ she started, but he bent down to kiss her again. That was the first time she had ever used his first name. 

* * *

**Present Day**

Their least favorite day was upon them again, and they spent it as they always did, _in bed._ This time though, they weren't fucking. Harry was listening to Pansy as she ranted about her work day and was tending to someone's damaged wand.

"And you won't believe what fucking happened _next-"_ she went on.

"What happened next?" He humored her.

" _Fucking Zacharias Smith_ comes in with _Romilda Vane_ and requests they have matching wands with the same core to represent their soul-mate connection. Wands don't even work that way, Harry! You should have seen Garrick's face, it was absolutely ridiculous. I hate this god damn day, and that will never change."

He tried not to laugh as she continued to be so worked up about Zacharias and Romilda.

"Are you sure this isn't about your old crush on Zachar-"

Before he could finish his statement, her pillow was thrown in his face, "Don't you fucking dare! I told you that in _confidence_."

Harry smirked as he threw the pillow back down behind her. He leaned back and felt the box below his pillow, suddenly thankful she hadn't grabbed his.

She was quiet after that and kept tending to the wand in front of her. It was a Hazel wand with a unicorn core. The previous owner had a near death experience and the wand almost died, too. It was not uncommon with that wand combination. Pansy's eyes were filled with concentration as she worked. Her hair fell slightly in her face, and Harry almost put it behind her ear, but he stopped himself so he could observe her some more. To him, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Pansy could feel him staring and noticed the look he was giving her, she playfully rolled her eyes, "What?" she asked, "Are you thinking about how you should have gotten us soul-mate wands, too?" 

It was that moment then that Harry knew. He wasn't sure why, but it was a gut feeling. It was his intuition saying _now._

"No," he responded as he reached under his pillow, "Wands are expensive, but I did get you this."

He pulled out the box. She looked down at it in his hand and didn't say a word. All she did was grab it. He wanted her to, he wanted _her_ to be the one to open it. Pansy was the most independent person he knew, and it was only fitting that she practically proposed to herself.

He watched as her hands shook as she opened it. Inside, she saw the platinum band wrapped with emerald and sapphire stones. Harry watched as her eyes welled up with tears, just enhancing their color, but she swallowed them down quickly. He watched as she put the ring on her own finger.

 _"I love you,"_ she told him seriously, "But this still doesn't change the fact that I hate Valentine's Day."

Harry smiled as she rolled over to straddle him. Relief rushed through him. Without saying a word, _she had said yes._ She didn't give him a chance to reply as her lips met his. 


End file.
